


A Lady's Armor

by ComingandGoingByBubble



Category: A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder - Lutvak/Freedman
Genre: Abuse, Bruises, F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-17 06:31:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13071093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ComingandGoingByBubble/pseuds/ComingandGoingByBubble
Summary: Monty sees the effect that Lionel's "perfect wife" ideology has on Sibella through her very tight corsets.





	A Lady's Armor

She had told Lionel and the servant girl at least three times that the corset was too tight, but neither of them had listened to her. She had half the mind to fire the girl for her insolence, but she guessed that she was just doing what she had been told. Sibella couldn’t blame her. If she was in her place, she’d probably take heed to what Lionel said rather than what Sibella said anyhow.

Regardless, it did not make her journey to Highhurst to see Monty any easier in a tight corset. She had been terrified, for a moment, when she had tried to step into the carriage that her ribcage would suddenly snap due to the pressure, and she would die right then and there. She didn’t, but the lingering pain that stayed with her even when she was sitting was quite horrid. She kept having to adjust how she was sitting, but no matter what she did, it made no difference.

She cursed the person who ever invented the damn bloody things.

Her visit to Highhurst today was for just Monty, and she knew that her blasted corset would be taken off sooner rather than later. Of that, she was highly thankful for.

Phoebe was away, off to the town square to buy some more seeds for her garden. Sibella was sorely disappointed by Phoebe’s absence, but she wasn’t in for much of a visit today. Nevertheless, she had come. More-so to save herself from having to deal with Lionel for the rest of the day. He had called in a new seamstress for her, saying that all of her other clothes had gotten too big.

As they pulled up to Highhurst, Sibella found herself remembering one night when Phoebe had mentioned something to her once, about how thin she looked, but Sibella had brushed it off, as she usually did.  Sibella was sure that Phoebe had said something to Monty, but he had not brought it up.

Maybe it was best that he didn’t. It was of no use to argue with him. Lionel was her husband, and nothing Monty could ever do could change that.

She found her way to Monty’s office, and opened the door.

He sat there in his recliner, smiling at her. One leg was straightened out on the reclining section, while the other curled up underneath it. His shirt was already half way unbuttoned as he had been expecting her.

               “Hello, my darling,” he greeted, pouring a glass of sherry for her and himself.

She took the sherry, and drank it all, hoping that it would dull some of her pain for a bit.

  “Hello, darling,” she replied after she had finished her drink. She set the glass down on the side table.

Monty then pulled her into his lap, rather roughly, and she tried to contain her wince, but the pain was undeniable.

Monty’s hands were wrapped tightly around her waist. She could feel the bones of the corset digging into her delicate skin. She tried to distract herself by kissing him, hoping that if she went along with it long enough that the pain would go away.

It didn’t. It only got worse. Monty was too over eager to notice. He had already shed her dress, leaving her in the corset and her shift. He had made quick work of her shoes and stockings by now as well as his own clothes.

Finally, she had to stop him, placing a hand on his chest. She gingerly placed her other hand on the left side of her ribs and massaged it, but that only made it worse.

 “What’s wrong?” Monty asked her, immediately concerned. His hands cupped her face. She pulled away from him, her fingers tapping on the top of the reclining chair. “Did I hurt you?”

               “Just a new corset. It’s not broken in yet,” she gave him a dazzling smile through the pain. He gripped her face a little tighter.

              “Then take it off.”

She shook her head.

              “No, no it’s fine…” She tried to move, but she suddenly gasped as a shot of pain blinded her for a moment.

               “Sibella…”

She suddenly couldn’t look at him for a moment. She didn’t want to, she couldn’t. Her eyes settled on the decanter of sherry. Tears bloomed in her eyes.

 She had always been so secure of herself and of her body… how could she admit to him that she had let her husband domineer everything about her to the point where she was insecure… to the point where she had terrible doubts.

The words trembled at her mouth, but instead of saying them out loud, she connected her lips with Monty’s for a quick kiss.

He pulled away almost immediately.

              “Sibella, if the corset is hurting you, you should take it off.”

It was smart, good advice. She knew she should take it… but she was suddenly very afraid of what she would look like without the corset. It was like a piece of armor to her. Most of the time she and Monty enjoyed their intimacy in darkness, or bathed in moonlight where the lighting wasn’t good. She knew she had gotten so thin lately, too thin for Monty’s taste.

  “No, Monty, that is not-“ She tried to dissuade him, but he had already starting untying it. She felt better almost immediately, her ribs no longer felt like they were being held in place by sharp knives. Her stomach moved, her chest expanded with deep breaths.

Monty was quiet. The fabric and boning fell away.

Sibella suddenly felt very, very small. She subconsciously crossed her arms over her breasts, as if that would change anything. He had already seen the bruised imprints that the corset had left on her skin.

He sucked in a deep breath, and Sibella found herself wishing she had never came to visit. His fingers gently reached out and grazed her bruised skin.

              “This isn’t the first time he’s done this, I gather,” Monty got out after a moment, his hand still on her ribcage.

She shook her head.

  “He says I need to be thinner…”

  “And so he shoves you into corsets that are seven times too small for you and lets your body bruise because of it?” Anger laced through his voice. His fingers twitched on her ribs.

               “What can I say, I told you he was a brute,” she said slowly in a tired voice. “You know Lionel, he’s all about the appearance of a perfect wife, not the reality. I doubt he’d care if my flesh was torn or if I was bleeding as long as I looked good to others.”

  “That’s no excuse,” Monty snapped.

  “No. But what are you going to do to change it?” she challenged him, her own anger flaring up. “What can you possibly do, Monty, to fix this?”

              “Buy you looser corsets,” he said softly.

              “Won’t matter.”

               “Like hell it won’t!”

She arched an eyebrow at him. Her arms uncurled themselves from around her breasts.

  “Monty, please… just stop. I’m tired.”

He looked up at her. “I’m sorry. I just… hate him. I hate that he does this to you.”

  “I know,” she replied quietly, “I hate him too.”

His fingers grazed over the skin again, tracing the line of bruised flesh that was the boning of the corset.

               “It’ll fade soon enough anyways,” she said quietly.

               “That’s not the point and you know it,” Monty’s fingers stopped and trembled for a moment.

She leaned in and kissed him.

  “I know you’re just trying to protect me… I know that and I love you for it, but you can’t protect me from everything… especially not Lionel.”

               “You and Phoebe will have to go shopping for better fitting clothes… You can keep them here, that way when you visit, you can be comfortable,” he said after a moment

He took her hand and kissed it.

  “Or I can always just wear nothing,” she teased, suddenly feeling back to her old self.

  “I am highly certain that the servants will not approve of that as much as Phoebe and I would,” Monty replied with a smirk.

She laughed, a smile on her face. Her hands drifted towards Monty’s legs when he grasped her wrist gently.

               “Stay here tonight… please,” he begged, “If not for your own sake, then for mine and Phoebe’s?”

She nodded softly. “Okay.” He let go of her wrist, having kissed it.

He embraced her gently, and she let her head rest on his shoulder. She breathed in quietly for a few moments, trying to regain her bearings. She wasn’t used to being this open… to being this vulnerable. It was scary and new, but she felt safe and comfortable around Monty and Phoebe, and knew she could trust them.

Monty kissed the top of her head lightly.

              “I love you,” he whispered. “Phoebe loves you too. We both love you.”

Sibella smiled into his skin.

              “I know you do. I love you both too.”

Monty then kissed at her ear.

              “And I don’t think either of us want to see any more bruises on your skin unless we give them to you with our mouths,” he whispered, sending a shiver up Sibella’s spine.

                “You both want to mark your territory, is that it?”

Monty laughed a bit.

              “Not marking our territory as much as showing you how much we love you.”

He kissed her hard.

It was Sibella’s turn to laugh.

  “By giving me hickeys?”

  “Well, darling what else would you have us do?”

Sibella gave him a wide smirk and a giggle.

              “I can come up with a few other ideas…”

 

 

 

 


End file.
